


Private Baths

by solangelosunangel



Category: Ancient History RPF
Genre: M/M, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:27:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26592148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solangelosunangel/pseuds/solangelosunangel
Summary: After a particularly grueling senate meeting, Caesar looks forward to some alone time pampering himself in his bath complex.
Relationships: Mark Antony/Julius Caesar
Comments: 2
Kudos: 18





	Private Baths

**Author's Note:**

> My professor teaching us about roman bathhouses: who painted the mona lisa? Mona lisa?
> 
> Me using the knowledge to write Mark Antony/Julius Caesar smut: da vinki?

The bathhouse was empty when Caesar entered the apodyterium of his private bath complex. He quickly shrugged out of his toga, waving his slaves off. He just needed some time alone after his hellish day dealing with the senate. All they wanted to do these days was argue, and he could tell they were all hurtling toward disaster if Caesar couldn't figure out a way to get them under control without creating an irreparable chasm between himself and them.

He pinched the bridge of his nose as he slipped his sandals off. His feet were already cold against the floor, and he shivered in anticipation of the cold aqueduct water that awaited him in the next room. The calm tranquility that surrounded him in his baths was certainly a far cry from the public bathhouse downtown, even at this late hour assuredly, and Caesar had never been more thankful for his title or wealth than in this moment.

He made his way through the frigidarium toward the cold water, dipping his body in, scrubbing quickly, and hopping back out. His body was shivering violently as he quickly made his way to the next room. Warmth hit him at once, wrapping gently around him, but it wasn't enough. Goosebumps still marred his skin as he made his way toward the pool at the other end of the room. He let out a breathy gasp as the heated water enveloped him, the frigidness seeping out of him. After a few moments of pure relaxation, he made his way back to the massage table, sitting in the chair next to it. A vessel of oil had been left for him, as per his request, and there were no slaves or servants to be seen. He regretted having clean himself, but that was the price one paid for complete solitude.

Soft and sure footsteps sounded behind him. Caesar straightened his back in his chair. "No one is to come in here," he said.

The footsteps did not stop. Caesar's hand balled into a fist at his side, and he wished he hadn't left his dagger back with his toga. He should kill this slave for his insolence.

The person stopped right behind him, and Caesar still did not turn around, not granting the slave the time of day; no one was to come in here, and no slave would have the gall to do anything to the great Julius Caesar. Unless... this wasn't a slave.

Arms wrapped around his neck, and Caesar's heart jumped. He knew these arms, better than he knew himself most days. He smiled to himself as teeth grazed the shell of his ear. "Not even me, Julius?"

Caesar could feel the tension that he had entered the baths with disappear at his lover's soothing, seductive voice. He chuckled and simply said, "Antonio."

"You were tense," Mark Antony said, walking around to the front of Caesar. He dipped his finger into the massage oil. "You were tense at the meeting this evening. Your face is usually so stoic, but today you were quite open." He brought the vessel as he walked behind Caesar, beginning to rub the oil into his skin. "But perhaps that is just a testament to how well I know you."

Caesar's mouth quirked up in a smile. "You know me better than I know myself," he said, echoing his earlier thoughts.

Antony hummed as he scraped some of the oil off of Caesar's back. His hands were firm, soft but sure against his spine. Just like everything else Antony did--soft, yet sure. At least around Caesar. "Well, I think the other senators could read your face just as well as I could, but I'm certain none of them would come to help you relax as I am."

Caesar's eyes darkened as Antony moved around to the front of him. "And how exactly are you going to help me relax, Antony?"

Mark Antony placed his two fingers, slick with oil, on his dictator's chin, tilting it up. Caesar stared up at the other man, his face as blank as he was certain it had been during the meeting. Antony's mouth was a hair's breadth away from Caesar's own, and then he replied, "Help you take a bath."

Antony pulled away and started on his legs. Caesar was content to let him tease for as long as he wanted to. Caesar would get what he wanted soon enough; Antony wanted it as much as he did, and he could tell it so clearly.

Being vulnerable was usually so difficult for Caesar, but with Antony, it was easy. "I don't know what to do," he said. "The senators seem keen on arguing with me at every step."

"You are never going to please everyone, Julius, and so you can just do what is right. Or what you want."

"You know what I want."

Antony smirked up at him from the floor. His hand stilled against Caesar's calf where it was rubbing a generous amount of oil into the flesh. "All in due time. I'm not even done with your legs yet."

"You are a tease."

He smiled. "I just came to give you advice about dealing with your enemies, since you were so clearly disturbed during the meeting. And when your servants told me you had asked to be alone, I was even more certain you needed me."

"If advice is all you came for, then where is my advice?"

Antony stood up, hand on his cocked hip, contrapposto and every bit the sexy, boyish Roman general that Caesar knew him to be. "Well, I am trying to give you advice, but you keep assuming that I'm going to let you fuck me."

Caesar smiled knowingly. He said nothing, gesturing at Antony to continue, if he so pleased.

Antony settled in Caesar's lap, facing him. He dipped his fingers seductively in the oil vessel once more, dragging his fingertips against Caesar's chest. His words did not match his ministrations. "Cry havoc," he said, "and let slip the dogs of war."

"If you're not going to let me fuck you, then why are you on my lap?"

"If I'm cleaning your chest, I need to be closer so I can see."

It was silent for a beat. "You think I should fight the senators? Should I have my guards assassinate them?"

Antony rolled his eyes. "I'm saying to need to take charge. Show them you mean business."

"Am I not already in charge?"

"Well, it seems that your senators have forgotten who they are dealing with, if they think they can dissent so obnoxiously. You rule better when you're stern."

"If I didn't know any better, I would say you're trying to turn the other senators against me. Coming here under these pretenses and telling me to act tyrannical toward my senators."

"Oh, Julius," Antony said, bringing his hand up to cup Caesar's cheek. "You know you have me."

Caesar smiled.

Antony resumed his oiling and scraping. "I only tell you this because I want what is best for you. How did you subdue Pompey's supporters? This is the same situation. Letting them walk all over you is not a good look for so commanding a man."

"If only dealing with these senators was as easy as talking to you," Caesar lamented. "Though I'm certain Cassius and Casca would not appreciate being treated in the same manner as I treat you."

Antony laughed, and Caesar could feel his stomach shaking against his own. His hand slowed against his chest. "I'm finished," Antony said, moving to place the oil back on the table, but Caesar grabbed his wrist.

Antony's eyes immediately went dark in anticipation. "Are you going to clean me next, Caesar?" he teased.

Caesar's own voice was low. "I think you already know that I like you dirty."

Antony's mouth met Caesar's with a ferocity that Caesar had come to know intimately. This intensity was what he so admired in his general. 

The general in question preened up into Caesar's chest, his hard cock pressing against Caesar's abdomen.

The dictator hummed into his lover's mouth. "Gonna let me fuck you?"

"Obviously."

Caesar didn't hesitate in dipping his fingers into the vessel, oil dripping down his hand and forearm as he pressed his pointer finger inside Antony. Mark Antony let out a breathy moan right into Caesar's ear.

"You're already so open for me," Caesar said.

"Are you so full of yourself that you didn't even notice I left the meeting early? I couldn't bear hearing them talk anymore. And I knew you'd be needing my advice later."

Caesar stilled, and an unknowing amount of warmth filled his chest. 

Antony blushed down to his chest. "Stop that," he said.

Caesar rested his forehead against Antony's own. "Thank you, Antonio. These past weeks have not been easy for me, and you were the only one to notice."

Antony smiled warmly, and he said, "Stop going so soft on me."

"I am the furthest thing from soft right now."

Antony laughed. He tilted his head back, exposing the pale column of his neck. "I wish I could _feel_ how not soft you are right now."

"Are you ready for me?"

"Yes," he breathed, and Caesar wasted no time pressing in. Antony moaned loudly, arching his back so much that Caesar had to grab onto his hips to ensure the both of them didn't go tumbling off the chair.

"You never cease to amaze me, Antony," he said, his eyes falling closed in pleasure.

Antony gyrated his hips, pulling a groan from the dictator. He began moving faster, ramming Caesar's cock as far as it would go inside of him. Caesar buried his fingers in Antony's hair, pulling him down and capturing his mouth in a heady kiss. This wasn't going to last as long as Caesar would have liked it to, but, fuck, his orgasm could not come quick enough.

"Come inside me," Antony said, breathless. "Wanna feel you."

One, two more thrusts, and Caesar was coming, driving deep into Antony, who dragged his teeth against the pulse point on Caesar's neck, whimpering.

Caesar wrapped his hand firmly around Antony's cock, stroking him one, two, three times before he was spilling against Caesar's hand and chest. Caesar's own cock, soft and still inside of Antony, jumped once more at the sight.

The man in his lap slumped against his chest, riding out the last of his orgasm.

Mark Antony yelped as Caesar suddenly stood up, grabbing onto Antony before the man could fall to the ground or his own cock could slip out of his ass.

"Put me down!" he screeched.

Caesar chuckled lowly. "Round two in the caldarium?"

"Ugh," Antony groaned. "I'm already sweaty enough." He was always bitchy after getting thoroughly fucked.

"Then you wanna have round two in the frigidarium?"

Antony rolled his eyes and pouts childishly. "Fine. Carry me to the caldarium, asshole."

Caesar laughed again as Antony leaned his head on his shoulder and mouthed off into his neck.

**Author's Note:**

> kms this is why I can't take classes on ancient history  
> I hope my professor is proud of me for using all the vocab she taught us about architecture to write smut  
> If you're curious LMAO - apodyterium = changing room, frigidarium = cold room (cold water for initial cleaning), tepidarium = warm room (for oil scraping/massages), caldarium = hot room  
> did i need to put all that in the story? no.


End file.
